Death Note , yeah, that's it
by Daniella Katton
Summary: A random collection of mini-stories that may or may not have a flowing plotline. Rated M to be safe.


**Hi thar. :D Thanks for reading and all.... xD; I think I had too much fun with this chapter, really, but it was just so amusing. I thought of it last night (meaning the evening of March 11th) when my mom and I were out at Morton's, and of course, Death Note was on the brain.**

**As the chapter title shows, this is only part one of the craziness that ensues at such an up-scale restaurant with the Death Note crew there. x3**

**Enjoy the product of my insanity. I hope it's decent and [relatively] in character. (Also, to anyone who actually _reads_ this (meaning the story _and _the author's note), please review! It just shows me that I'm writing this for a reason other than to entertain myself. Even if it's a review that says I suck at writing.**

**...as long as it has evidence to back that up. owo)**

**I own absolutely nothing.**

**...except my Pocky. Om nom nom. :D**

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How had they even ended up here? It really made no sense. There was absolutely no reason to be at such an up-scale restaurant when they could have just as easily gone to Burger King, McDonald's, or Dairy Queen and managed to receive food that everyone liked just as much. (The latter would probably have been the best choice, to be honest, as it mostly served sweets.)

Okay, so perhaps it was the fact that it was L's birthday that influenced their strange decision in restaurants for the evening. However, Mello was protesting, even as they stepped through the doors into Morton's.

"_What_ is your _problem_, Light! Why couldn't we just stay home and watch movies and eat candy?" Mello deliberately omitted the fact that they received said candy from the blond stealing it from little children that walked past his apartment.

Light took a deep breath, and figured that replying would only make Mello flare up even more. That kid always seemed like he was PMS-ing. That would be a logical response as to why he was constantly yelling at people who ticked him off even a little bit... if he wasn't a guy.

But, of course, Light's initial idea of what would make Mello even angrier was incorrect. "Hell_ooooo_?" The leather-clad teen waved his normally gloved hands (L had made him take off his gloves for dinner; obviously, this pissed Mello off severely, but he complied, probably because it was L's birthday) in front of Light's face. "Are you even listening to me?" He absolutely _despised_ being ignored, whether intentionally or otherwise.

Distracted by Mello's whining, Matt looked up from his Gameboy. "_Mello_. Shut _up_." He may or may not have felt the urge to add "please" to the end of that, but the gamer certainly had a few tricks up his striped sleeves that would most likely get the chocoholic to be quiet. At least, for a short while.

In the decent amount of chaos, the poor young man at the front desk had been forgotten about, but he certainly didn't mind that. He was trying to avoid getting his head bitten off by the seemingly insane blond.

"Aaaand what if I don't?" Mello asked perturbed.

Matt's eyes narrowed behind his goggles. "I'll take away your endless supply of chocolate."

"....You _wouldn't_."

"I would."

And that was that.

The guy at the front desk – whose name tag actually read "Guy" – decided to speak to one of the most normal people there, and tapped the man on the shoulder.

How wrong he was in his assumption that L was even remotely normal. The detective had his back turned to the younger man, so there could be some leeway given in the latter's decision. As soon as L turned around, however, that leeway was replaced with a small trout.

....No, seriously. A waiter was walking by with some kind of fish on a platter.

Guy nearly fell over when L turned to face him. He pictured the detective as less of a panda (like the fan[girl?]s seem to believe) and more of a zombie or vampire.

Considering pop culture, the term "vampire" would have been more flattering.

Zombie or vampire aside, the host coughed, and managed to regain his composure enough to be able to speak with the very, very odd man in front of him. "Eh hem... yes, uh, do you have reservations?" L nodded slowly. The word "reservations" grabbed Light's attention, and he took over from there.

"Yes; under 'Yagami'." The group had decided that it would be safest to place the reservations under Light's name. And when I say "the group", I mean L. He, Near, Mello, and Matt had aliases for a reason, and could have easily used one of them to place reservations, but L was being especially paranoid, as it was his birthday. Don't ask me what paranoia has to do with his birthday, because I certainly don't know.

Having been calmed down by Light's undoubtedly normal appearance (especially compared to the others), Guy glanced at the list of reservations for the night. "Light?" he asked quickly. The college student nodded, with a slight "Mhm."

"All right... the maitre d' will be here shortly to seat you. Feel free to make yourselves at home." The host motioned towards the two comfortable-looking chairs and small round table situated against the wall that separated part of the entry hall with the dining area. There was another wall that the chair farthest from the five-person group – six if you counted the host, but I certainly don't – was next to, which isolated the bar from the rest of Morton's. There were multiple people at said bar; Near glanced out at the dining area, and found that there was no one there.

Then why, exactly, was that waiter passing earlier with a full platter? Well, there was a pair at a table in the very back, but that was about it. Near didn't bother to wonder how people had managed to get their dinner, let alone a table, before the restaurant even opened. (Light and L had made sure that they arrived at exactly five-thirty in the evening; this was the time of their reservations, and of the opening.) He was too busy observing how everything was playing out near him.

Meaning, Near was preoccupied watching Mello throw a silent hissy-fit. Not that this was particularly unusual. The watching, or the mute rage.

However, Near's apparent infatuation with Mello isn't really of anyone's concern, so we'll step away from that and back to the rest of the group, not including Matt... which means just L and Light. They were still waiting for the maitre d' – it had only been a few minutes, so one couldn't really expect more – and L had decided that he'd like to sit down.

The host was currently rather frightened, considering that L's way of sitting was... a bit _eccentric_. (Understatement.) Paired with how strange the rest of the group, minus Light and possibly Matt, was, and the fact that L stole most of the mints at the desk for a quick sugar fix, this situation was sure to scare anyone. (Okay, maybe people who were used to it wouldn't be terribly freaked out. Authoress coughs twice; coughs sound vaguely like "Mello" and "Sidoh". Authoress giggles maniacally for a moment before going back to work.)

A minute or two later, the maitre d' appeared. She was a somewhat short woman with shoulder-length blonde hair and a black skirt-suit. Her smile was cordial and very welcoming as she quickly led the odd group to their table.

The table was close to the back of the dining area, the only place with enough space to sit five or more people. The woman, whose name turned out to be Marie, spun the table to the side so that the group would have room to fit into the booth. Light sat on the far left of the curved, couch-like seat, and L sat next to him, followed by Mello, Matt, and Near. Once they were all situated properly – yes, this includes Near and L sitting in their usual ways, which earned each of them a strange glance from the maitre d' – Marie spun the table back to its original position, and swiftly made her way back to wherever it was that she had come from.

This was probably a very, very good idea, as things were about to get... _rough_. (More like weird, but rough sounds better for some reason.)

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**For anyone who's curious, this is 1264 words, not including the author's notes at the bginning and end, and 2.5 pages long, with 1" margins and double spaces between paragraphs, and again not including the author's notes. (Not throughout; betweeeeeen paragraphssssss. xD)**


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